Four
by InuYashaZeldaEragon
Summary: Italy Veneziano and Romano are in for a huge wake up call when they are kidnapped. No one has any idea where they could have disappeared to, and so it is eventually accepted that they are gone forever. Four years can feel like four decades when you're being tortured. T for violence, language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, ect. No pairings, human names used in moderation, not A.U.
1. Prologue

**A/N: First of all, thanks for picking this fanfiction! I will try to update regularly if you guys promise to review~! Anyways... As a warning, I just want you guys to remember that North Italy IS an adult, and can be mature at times. (Think of the time when Britain/England captured him and Romano: He seemed pretty level headed, and pretty much lectured Roma for being so submissive.) In this fic, I WILL have a more matured Veneziano, so expect him to be rational, and intelligent... To an extent anyways. Romano is also a bit on the "dere" side of tsundere, (He has a TON of "tsun" moments though, don't worry...) so him and his brother are about on the same level. I guess it could be called "OOC", but I think they're pretty in character, especially considering the situation they'll be in. ;) Also, I don't want flames, but constructive criticism is definitely appreciated! Now, getting down to the nitty gritty... I think this will be pretty straightforward, but if you need clarification at all, leave a review, or PM me, and I'll answer. Oh, and this fic is NOT set in an AU or anything, but uses human names, as well as nation names. When the story is being told from one of the Italies' point of view, I'll call them by their respective names, Veneziano or Romano, since that's what they seem to go by when interacting with each other in the anime. In 3rd person chapters however, I may alternate between different names, like using South and North Italy, Romano and Veneziano, or Lovino and Feliciano. If it's too confusing, I'll change it.**

* * *

_**~•~•~Prologue~•~•~**_

Lovino Vargas yawned widely as he stretched out his arms, grateful for the expansive room he sat in.

"Veni," he began, his voice still a bit cracked from under-use, "What day is it?"

His younger brother Feliciano Vargas, turned to him, trying to avoid looking out of the apartment window and at the scene unfolding directly below it.

"Ve~! Well, according to this," He pulled out his new cellphone from the back pocket of his black jeans and looked at it for a moment before continuing, "It's April 9th." Feliciano then glanced out the window that he had been trying so hard to ignore, and announced, "Roma, there are a lot of people gathering out there."

His brother shifted anxiously. "Well, we are big news right now." Again, the italian repositioned his slender legs so that his right was lazily slung across his left. "I mean, it isn't every day that two nations that have been missing for just under four years show up without warning. They probably think this will be the story of the century."

Northern Italy smiled, though through his seemingly happy emotional mask, his southern brother could see the damage that the past four yeas had inflicted on him. Lovino knew that the once-immature teen had experienced things that would have scared even the most hardened war veteran into submission. But somehow, Feliciano had stayed strong in their most desperate time.

Lovino gave his head a mental shake._ 'There's no sense in thinking like that now...'_

"Ve~! Hey big brother, that means that we're the center of attention now, right?" Feliciano's smile widened, and for a moment, showed genuine happiness.

Romano chuckled darkly, quickly erasing his brother's smile. "That isn't a good thing Veneziano. Do you really want the media breathing down your neck, all day, every day until they are done leeching off all of this?" The olive-skinned italian made a vague gesture with his hands. "When they are finished Veni, do you know what they'll do with you?"

Feliciano shook his head, a blank look on his face.

"They'll throw you away like a piece of garbage!" Lovino knew that he was being hard on his little brother, but he didn't want Feliciano to be exploited in such a way.

"But Romano..." Northern Italy whined, pouting a little.

His older brother groaned in annoyance. "If you really want to talk about it so badly, go talk with the potato bastard. I'm sure he could put up with you long enough for you to explain yourself."

Veneziano nearly knocked his older brother off the couch with the force of his hug. "Ve~! Romano, you're so smart~! Why didn't I think of going to visit Germany?" He grinned widely once again. "But, of course you'll have to come with me too, fratello!"

Lovino let out an indignant huff. "Of course not!" He scoffed, pushing his over-eager brother off, and crossing his arms. "You go by yourself! I don't want to have anything to do with that damn potato eater!"

By the time he had finished his sentence, Feliciano was already dragging Lovino out of the room by his hands.

"Come on Romano!" He shouted enthusiastically as they forced their way through the mobs of reporters and camera crews, finally ending up at Feliciano's car.

Speaking quickly, Lovino growled, "How do you expect us to get out of here Veneziano? We're surrounded by those bastards!"

Feliciano laughed shakily, "Trust me Roma, I know what I'm doing."

And with that, he revved the engine and sped directly across the front lawn, into the street. After nearly being t-boned by a large truck, which blared it's horn as it swerved, and almost hit by three other cars as Italy drove through incoming traffic, Lovino relinquished his grip on the leather seat beneath him and turned to his brother. "WHAT WERE YOU THINKING YOU CRAZY BASTARDO?! YOU ALMOST KILLED US! Ay, Veneziano, NEVER do that again!"

Feliciano didn't reply, and his brother could see his chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Hey Veneziano, let me drive." Lovino said quietly. It wasn't a suggestion; it was a command.

"Y-yes fratello." Italy said shakily, pulling into the nearest gas station and putting the car into park.

"That was insane Veni." Lovino said softly, shifting gears and keeping his eyes occupied with the road ahead of them.

Feliciano drew a shuddering breath. "I know."

* * *

The rest of their trip was dull, with few words exchanged between the brothers, both because they had to take turns alternating between driving and sleeping, and the fact that neither of them had anything of importance to say. Those four years had taught them to not waste your breath on meaningless drabble.

Soon they arrived at Germany's house, and they pulled into the long driveway. It had taken quite a long time to drive there, and it was now night time.

"I wonder if the potato bastard is even awake." Lovino wondered aloud.

Feliciano unceremoniously rammed the knocker into the door, and Lovino could hear it echoing throughout the house.

The door opened a crack, and Ludwig poked his head out.

"Italy? Where... H-how did... C-come in!" He opened the door fully, the warm light streaming out of the house momentarily blinding the two italians.

Germany lead them through the hall, and past a sleeping Prussian who was passed out on the couch, to a good-sized sitting room with two large, comfy looking recliners and another small couch. Feliciano and Lovino took the love seat, while Germany plopped down into one of the recliners.

"So..." The german began, running a hand through his golden-blond hair, "Where have you been for the past four years?" He was directing his question mainly at Northern Italy, but Romano knew that Germany had acknowledged his disappearance as well. Even if they didn't exactly get along, they were both nations, and if there was a threat to them, then it was not only his concern.

"Well, it all started when Romano and I went to that world meeting..."


	2. Chapter 1

**_~•~•~Chapter 1~•~•~_**

"Romano... Roma, please wake up!" A familiar voice called. I opened my eyes, groggily looking up at the face of my younger brother.

"What is it Veneziano?" I asked sleepily.

I froze as I began to sit up; why were my wrists bound with... _**Shackles**_?!

I opened my eyes fully to examine the room we were in. It was lit by two candle stubs, slowly burning down. Veneziano also held one, pinching the solid end, careful not to let the wax drip onto his fingers. The only other thing in the small concrete room was a heavy iron-barred door.

"W-where are we Veni?" I asked, my heart racing.

Veneziano closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. "I-I was hoping you could tell me..."

I ran a hair through my filthy brown hair, feeling the weight of the chains on my arm. "I don't have any idea where we are..."

The sound of footsteps jolted my brother and I's gazes towards the iron door.

"Romano..." I could feel Veneziano's grip on my arm growing desperately tighter. "I-I'm scared..."

I hugged my brother close, protectively pulling his head onto my chest. "Don't worry fratello, I'll beat this bastard senseless before he can get anywhere near you." Despite my words, I trembled. How could I even hope to fight with shackles restraining my movement?

The footsteps stopped abruptly, and I had almost thought that whoever it was had left, until a series of clicks and whirrs sounded from the other side of the door.

It swung open, and a hulking figure strode into the room.

"You have come to play, da?"

* * *

**_(Veneziano's P.O.V.)_**

"R-Russia...?" I squeaked.

"You are the Italies, da? You will play with Ivan now." Russia came closer, picking up Romano like he was weightless and throwing him over his shoulder.

"Eeh! Put me down you bastard!" He yelled, kicking Russia in the back. Russia ignored him, not even seeming to acknowledge that Romano was kicking him as hard as possible. He only reached over, and broke both shackles around Romano's wrists apart, Romano yelping in pain as cold metal dug into his flesh.

"Roma!" I gasped, shrinking into the wall.

He opened one eye, both now glistening with tears, and gave me a fleeting smile. "Don't worry about me Veneziano, I'll be fine."

And with that, Russia carried him out of the room, leaving me all alone.

Fratello...!" I sobbed into my hands, completely overwhelmed with the whole situation.

I eventually wiped my tears away, and began to work out a plan in my head. There was no possibility of escaping through the cold concrete floor, and the walls were just as solid, so the only way out would be through the door.

I wondered where Russia had taken Romano... What was he going to do with my big brother...? Tears ran down my face in steady streams. I couldn't help myself... I had never been a fighter; always a pushover. Even when Romano and I were younger, he was always the stronger one, and the obvious favourite of Grandpa Rome. Grandpa would never accept the weakling... The runt. He did a good job of faking it though.

I sniffed, berating myself for thinking about such trivial things at a moment like this. I clenched my fists, digging my fingernails into my palms so hard that it began to draw blood. I needed to stay strong.

I sat waiting for what seemed like days, willing myself not to cry. I would wait for my brother and that... That bastard to come back...

The door creaked open, and I could make out Romano's slim frame through the darkness. Russia followed, holding him up by the armpits. It took me a second to realize that Romano was unconscious. I almost called out for him, but stopped myself. Maybe if Russia thought I wasn't easily broken...

He dragged my poor brother over and dropped him roughly beside me, then left without another word.

I shuffled as close to him as I could with the chains restraining me, and tried to move him into a more comfortable position. I dragged him onto my lap, being careful not to wake him. Romano's bangs obscured most of his face, but on his cheek, I could see crimson splatters. From where they originated I was not sure.

Tugging his shirt up so that I could examine him a bit closer, I gasped as I saw the extent of the injuries on his tanned back. There seemed to be burns crisscrossing over his spine, easily the most sensitive area. "Oh Roma... What happened...?" Pulling his jacket and shirt off completely, I could see that his arms had deep slices in them in places, probably done with a very sharp dagger. The worst of all though, was the crude writing across his shoulder blades. Carved into his skin, presumably with the same weapon used on his arms, was the name _**"Ivan Braginski"**_. It was bleeding badly, and looked incredibly painful. The surrounding skin was red, both from the blood, and irritation.

I could feel Romano's heartbeat on my forearm, as I held onto him. _'Don't leave me alone fratello. You have to escape with me.'_

Something dripped onto my leg. At first, I thought it was blood, but when I looked closer, I could see that Romano was crying.

"I'm sorry fratello. _I couldn't stop him_." He whispered, his voice cracking despite his efforts to bottle up his emotions.

I was genuinely shocked. My brother rarely showed this kind of emotion. And when he did, he usually covered it up with anger.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Roma. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I could have stopped him, but I was a coward..."

Romano placed a hand on the side of my face, smearing it with his blood. "Ah, don't worry yourself over my condition. I'm southern Italy after all... I'm practically made of badasses!" He allowed himself a weak laugh, before his eyes drooped shut, and he passed out again. His hand fell onto his chest, and his face muscles relaxed as he drifted off.

I brushed his bangs from his face, and whispered, "You rest, fratello. I promise that no harm will come to you while you sleep."

* * *

**A/N: So how was that? Too angsty? Not violent enough? Need less description? More description? Let me know! :)**


	3. Chapter 2

**_~•~•~Chapter 2~•~•~_**

**(Romano's P.O.V.)**

When I awoke, I found myself cradled in Veneziano's arms. He was asleep, with his head resting on the wall behind us. I tried to recall what had happened last night. Flashes of blood and screaming and weapons raced through my mind, and I clenched my jaw. I couldn't show any weaknesses.

"Fratello, you're awake..." Veneziano spoke softly, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

I nodded, feeling scabs crack painfully in doing so. "Has he come back yet...?"

Veneziano frowned, avoiding eye contact. "No."

I bowed my head, understanding his actions. If it was him that had been tortured, I would have been enraged too... Though to a more drastic extent...

Turning my head so that I could see him fully, I realized that he still wore his shackles. I tried to sit up, attempting to ignore the pain coursing through my back, but it was too much, and I fell back into my brother's lap once again.

"What is it?" Veneziano asked.

"You're still chained to the wall, Veneziano. Let me try to get those shackles off... I'm free after all." I succeeded in getting to a sitting position this time, and worked on trying to crawl over to the wall. I reached for the base of the chains, where they connected to the damp stone wall.

"Be careful fratello, you have some serious injuries."

I stopped dead in my tracks. Veneziano was worried? He never... Since when did the carefree Feliciano Vargas worry about anything? I stifled a mirthless chuckle, and began working on pulling the chains from the wall. The task took my mind off of our current situation, and I was glad for the release. I tried as hard as possible, and Veneziano even helped by pulling at the same time, but no amount of pressure would cause the rings to do anything other than make a nasty metallic noise when they scraped together.

"I'm alright Romano, just worry about yourself. First we should dress your injuries." He struggled to take his blue military jacket off, and ended up tearing off the sleeves to get it free of the shackles. He took the sleeveless jacket and threw it to me, while tearing up his sleeves further, into strips.

"Come here and I'll tie these around your arms, Roma." Veneziano said, not looking up from ripping his jacket.

He wrapped the blue makeshift bandages around the worst of the cuts littering my arms, making sure that they weren't too tight.

"You don't need to do this Veneziano." I muttered, attempting to keep at least a shred of my dignity intact.

"Be quiet fratello. Of course I need to help you."

I was taken aback by my brother's harsh tone. He was never this serious. It was rare that you could even have a normal conversation with him, never mind the fact that he had just scolded me...

Veneziano pointed to what was left of his jacket. "Tear a big strip out of that, and I'll tie it around your back."

I picked up the ruined uniform, and started to rip a long, wide strip out of it. Handing it to my younger brother, I wondered out loud, "How long have you been doing things like this?"

He stayed focused on his work, still not making eye contact. "I had to do things like this when me and Germany fought in world war two together. I kept getting shot at, so I learned really quickly not to rely on having bandages all the time."

A loud bang made both of us jump. Veneziano quickened his pace, his fingers fumbling with the ends of the 'bandage' as he finished tying it around my shoulder blades.

"Put your shirt on Romano, quickly, and we can't let him know that the torture affected you so much..." Veneziano whispered hurriedly, throwing the scraps of unused fabric into the corner.

I tried to ignore the fact that I was being bossed around by my younger brother, and gingerly put on my black tee shirt and jacket, careful not to jostle the strips of fabric too much.

Veneziano's face twisted into an expression of rage as he waited for the door to open. It worried me to see my naïve little brother so worked up over this.

"Don't do anything stupid." I warned him, punching him weakly in the arm.

He nodded, not taking his eyes off the solid iron door.

It swung inwards, letting in a steady stream of light, silhouetting someone much smaller than Russia. The person closed the door behind him, then knelt down and set a dish on the floor in front of us.

Veneziano visibly brightened, his mouth agape at the prospect of food.

The man spoke, sounding rightly terrified. "I hope he hasn't done anything too terrible to you two... I'm very sorry about all this... I'm working on something to try and break you out, but I have no clue how long all of this will take. Please, stay strong, and I'll try to sneak extra food down whenever I can."

"Ve~! Thank you so much!" Veneziano smiled widely, surprising me with his drastic mood swing.

"Why are you here?" I asked, a little bit intrigued at who this person was.

He took a deep breath to calm himself, and spoke quietly, "I'm being forced to stay with Russia too, but he has to let me have the freedom of most parts of the house. I-I used to..." He faltered, clutching the hem of his shirt tightly. "He used to torture me as well... But... He got bored of me." The man lifted the back of his shirt to display a large scar running horizontally across his back. Though it was not just a simple scar; it was a brand of sorts... It displayed the name of the very person who had tortured the two of us... Maybe even more.

"Ivan Braginski..." I muttered, feeling rage bubbling inside me.

"I'm Lithuania by the way..." He added with a small smile. Lithuania stood, pulling his shirt back down, covering his ruined back. "Toris Laurinaitis."

He left, closing the door behind him, and we were left alone in the dingy cell-like room once again.

Veneziano reached for the food on the floor, but I stopped him, explaining that I thought it might be spiked.

"Fratello..." He whined, still trying to reach for the food.

I had been trained to inspect my food for various poisons and drugs while I was still a little kid, my grandfather, always paranoid that there were going to be assassination attempts on his little _**bambinos**_, made sure to teach my brother and I how to detect them; though my younger brother was much to naïve and trusting to ever use this skill.

I determined that the food was, indeed, spiked, but it was a harmless drug to numb the recipient's body. It may come in handy.

I gave the plate of food back to my brother, deciding to skip this meal. It was likely that he was going to be targeted next, so if I was unable to protect him in my current state, he would at least be able to skip the horrible experience with the help of this drug.

"Ve~! Fratello, are you going to have any?" Veneziano asked excitedly, already a half eaten bun in his hand.

"No." I said simply, "You eat it. I'm not hungry."

He went back to tearing apart the meagre meal, unaware of the effects it would have on him. As soon as he had finished the rest of it, I pinched him gently on the arm, testing my suspicions. A drunken giggle issued from his mouth, and he grabbed the area where I had pinched him. "S-stop Lovi..."

"At least-" I began, but was cut off as the door flew open, slamming against the wall, hard.

I clenched my fists, biting my tongue not to speak up as Russia walked up to us. "I have had a very hard day. Which one of you would like to be my punching bag for the night?" He hefted a pipe over his shoulder menacingly, looking down at my brother and I.

I spit at his feet, unable to keep my anger in check any longer. "Go fuck yourself you damn psycho."

He smiled coldly. "Ah, you volunteer? Wonderful. You will help poor Russia out, da?" He knelt down, still not at my eye level. "I look forward to hearing you cry like the weak, pathetic bug you are."

Russia reached out, his icy fingers inches away from me, when I felt my own hand being enveloped in warmth.

"I love you fratello... _**Thank you.**_" Veneziano whispered before kicking Russia in the shins as hard as he could.

He was strangely unaffected by this, but stood up anyways, turning his frightening gaze on my brother. "I see I have another volunteer. Would you like to come too?"

"No. Take me, and only me, Russia." He said firmly.

"Veneziano, what are you doing? He'll beat the shit out of you!"

"Be quiet Lovino!" He snarled, squeezing my hand so hard it hurt. "I'm the weaker one, so I'll be more fun to torture! Take me instead!"

Russia tilted his head to the side in mock contemplation. "Hmm... I think I'll take you." He swung the pipe down, snapping the chains on the shackles in half as Veneziano cringed. He gathered up the remains of the chains still attached to my brother's wrists, and dragged him out the door.

"YOU IDIOT!" I yelled, smashing my fist on the ground angrily. I had done everything I could to try and save him the pain and suffering of being tortured by that maniac, and he just threw himself at him and practically begged him to anyways!

I hit the concrete floor once again, feeling pain shoot up my arms. How could he be so selfless?

My heart beat rapidly in my chest, and I vaguely wondered if I had pushed myself too hard as I fell forward, unconscious.

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter? Yeah, I have three typed up already... X3 So how did you guys like it? Thanks to all my awesome rewiewers! :D**


	4. Chapter 3

**_~•~•~Chapter 3~•~•~_**

_**(Veneziano's P.O.V.)**_

I let myself get pulled across the floor, looking around, vaguely wondering where I was. It looked almost... Familiar. The effects of the drug had nearly lifted completely, but I was still slightly groggy.

I could hear the door slam shut, and the sound of it being locked forced me to ignore the urge to save myself and run.

"You are stronger than you look... My leg is having pains from that kick. But it is no matter, you will be crying and begging me for the mercy in no time at all!" He gave an unstable smile, almost appearing as if he was going to cry.

He yanked on the chains, throwing me up onto a long table. It was splattered with dried blood, the stench that came from the room seconding that. There was an assortment of terrifyingly lethal instruments on top of a stack of old milk crates piled in the corner of the room, such as knives, stakes, needles, various jars of liquids and a box of rusty nails.

Russia leaned his iron pipe on the wall, where it settled with an echoing, '**_clank_**'. He held me down on the table with a large, icy hand on my chest while grabbing a frayed rope and binding me to the table.

"So is it going to be the same kind of thing as my brother? You'll torture me until I submit? Break me with physical, and psychological damage?" I asked defiantly, hoping my voice didn't sound as weak as I felt.

Russia didn't answer, but picked up a needle, pricking the tip of my finger and smearing the blood on the palm of my hand.

I cringed, and he let out a terrifyingly humourless laugh. Russia looked down at me with perverse pleasure in his eyes. "You are weak. You can't even handle a little pinprick. You are the _weakest_ nation, and always have been."

I bit my lip, feeling tears start to form in the corners of my eyes. Yes, I was the weakest nation. Always looked down on by others, always taken pity on... I was _protected_ by the _strong_, _ridiculed_ by the _strongest_.

"You have always been such a burden to your allies... Why bother living...?" Russia purred, his voice starting to become almost... **_Soothing_**.

I couldn't take the guilt. I had always tried to cover up my fears and weaknesses with my carefree attitude, just as my brother had used anger, but there was no use in that now. My secret was out.

A sharp pain in my left wrist solicited a cry of anguish.

"Stop!" I yelled, my tears now flowing freely down my cheeks.

"You would disappoint your brother? He was able to withstand my knife for fifteen minutes before he showed even the slightest bit of weakness." His voice held so much glee. He was enjoying this... Russia took pleasure in hurting people. "You're so incredibly _weak_."

I shut my eyes tightly, feeling warm blood trickle down my arm. I couldn't submit yet. There was no way I could provide him with the entertainment he wanted. It was wrong... It was wrong, and I needed to show him that I would not let him hurt Romano again.

Russia dragged the knife across my shoulder this time, and I could feel the thin metal blade slicing through my skin.

I bit my tongue hard, tasting blood. I would not show weakness. I was the grandson of the Roman Empire... He had taught me better.

A new sensation issued from my hand. My torturer was pouring one of the liquids from a bottle onto the palm of my hand. It stung, but at the same time, soothed me, almost like peroxide on a wound.

I vaguely wondered what the substance was, and whether it was lethal or not.

Russia drove the knife into my hand, and I screamed. It was pure agony. My ears rang and I panted hard as I realized what the liquid had been. It must have been some type of poison that makes you hallucinate instantly... I looked down at my hand, reassuring myself that it was only my imagination. The muddy substance dripped off my hand as I turned it over. I tried to calm down, telling myself that this was all just one big hallucination. But that was quickly shattered when the russian turned me over so that I was on my stomach...

"You will be my fourth..." He spoke softly.

He held a different, more blunt knife in his hand, wielding it like a dagger. Russia sliced the skin on my back, precisely, and with a practiced hand. I tensed, knowing that this was real.

I could feel the letters being carved into my flesh._** I-V-A-N B-R-A-G-I-N-S-K-I**_. It spelled out his human name. I called out for my brother, in so much pain from the blunt knife scraping across my back, that I didn't care what happened to me.

"R-Romano! Help... Help me...! Brother..."

Russia bent down and took up a handful of dirt from the floor, and rubbed it roughly on my wounds. I knew exactly what he was doing. It would almost certainly scar now.

Now I would have his brand on me. I was his toy; his punching bag.

He turned away for a moment, contemplating his next move before picking up yet another knife, running it against the back of his hand. He seemed to decide against it, and picked up another, and another, testing it on his own skin. It was like he was teasing me, showing that he was not afraid of pain; or self mutilation for that matter.

He finally decided on one with a nicked blade, that looked quite old and worn from use. The wooden handle moulded to the contours of his hand. He smiled as he looked down at it. "Once again, I pick my favourite. My fourth knife for my fourth victim... It is fitting, da?"

He brought the knife to my skin, the cold metal resting on my warm skin. I shuddered violently, knowing the pain that was just moments away. The russian laughed as his favourite knife cut into me. It was hard to breathe. Even harder to cry out. I was too exhausted to protest or voice my pain. The amount of pain was next to nothing compared to my brother's, and yet I was so weak that I had already given in. My last thought as I lost my grip on consciousness was a hope that he would leave poor Romano alone.

* * *

**A/N: I hope this isn't too short a chapter... Anyways, there's a torture chapter out of the way. How was it? It's the first time I've ever written anything this dark. *shudder* I looked up a few different medieval torture devices, and there were some REALLY nasty ones. Ripping off limbs, being forced to sit on a giant metal spike... Ugh. Well, tell me what you guys think!**


	5. Chapter 4

I opened my eyes and stared up at the dirty ceiling. It was so dull and lifeless, just like the rest of this damned place. So awful... So isolated. Was there no one who would come to rescue us?

My back ached painfully, screaming in protest at my current position. It was hopeless to try and move though, since I was still bound with a frayed old rope. I struggled against my restraints, hoping that they would give.

"You are awake now?" A menacing voice spoke from the corner, and the russian stood up, pipe in hand. "Too bad, I have to leave in a bit. I guess you can go see your brother now."

"You bastard..." I growled around the rag in my mouth.

"Oh... Don't use that kind of language in my presence... I might have to punish you." He wielded the pipe threateningly.

I worked the dirty cloth out of my mouth, and spat at his feet. I was already hurt, why not be a little defiant? I couldn't go back to Romano with such a pathetic amount of injuries. I couldn't let him know that I had submitted so easily... He would be so disappointed in me.

Russia laughed, twirling the pipe in his hands before bringing it down on my right leg. I screamed, regretting my decision instantly. I wasn't strong enough for this. A sickening crack resonated off the walls of the claustrophobic room.

The russian swept me up as I was still in pain, and carried me out of the torture chamber. Cold air rushed at my flushed face, cooling me down. I shivered violently, not yet used to the drastic drop in temperature. I was suddenly thrown into another dark room, still blinded by the pain in my right leg.

A loud curse snapped my eyes open. "Roma..."

"Ah... Veneziano, I thought from the screams coming from that room... And the sudden silence..." He hugged me gingerly, and I could feel him shaking.

"Fratello..." I muttered, slumping back against the wall.

Romano straightened out his uniform and wiped away his tears, sniffling as he said, "Where did he hurt you Veneziano?"

I closed my eyes wearily, still exhausted from the day's events. "It's nothing close to what he did to you. He knows I'm weak."

Romano frowned, his brows knitting together in obvious frustration. "_Veneziano_." He sounded angry.

I cringed. There was nothing that would stop Romano from getting his own way when he was like this. "Well... I-I'm not exactly sure. I know that my leg is probably broken... But there isn't anything else too serious." I yawned widely, feeling myself drifting off.

"Feliciano?" I was curious as to why my brother had used my human name. It was so... Formal.

"Yes?" I cracked an eye open.

"Please don't lie to me. I'm your big brother, I'm supposed to protect you... But I can't do that if you aren't being honest... Stupid bastardo..." He added half-heartedly.

I grasped his hand, looking him straight in the eyes. "Please... Don't lose yourself in rage like you always do, fratello." Letting go of his clammy hand, I removed my black button up shirt, then my undershirt, trying not to make it too obvious that both of the aforementioned garments were sliced and bloodied in places.

Romano gasped as he looked at the number Russia had done on my torso. He shuffled around me, taking in my broken appearance. Even I hadn't seen the extent of the damage. There were several new wounds, mostly on my back. The brand, identical to Romano and Toris' displaying Russia's human name, looked terrible, dirt, sweat and blood smeared across the open wounds. I felt nauseous, and had to put my head between my knees as Romano examined the rest of my exposed torso.

"Not too serious _my ass_..." Romano muttered, his usual scowl etched onto his face.

"Roma?" I asked shakily, my voice muffled slightly.

He looked at me seriously, pursing his lips. "What?"

I inhaled deeply before looking up at him tiredly. "I know you're worried about the effects of the drug in the food I ate earlier..."

He nodded sombrely.

I smiled weakly. "It's fine. They had no negative effects... Besides me being a bit out of it when I kicked Russia..." Romano sighed in relief, reaching down and removing his black tie, tossing it aside.

"You had lessons on how to detect poisons and other drugs, and I had lessons on how to recover quickly; whether it's alcohol, drugs or sleeping pills, I can get into a normal state of mind in a matter of minutes." I explained, carefully putting both of my my shirts back on again.

Romano nodded again, taking it in slowly. "So did you know that the food was spiked beforehand?"

"No. I could only tell when it started to take effect." Another large yawn surfaced, and my eyes watered.

"You should sleep fratello."

"Yes, but we should try to come up with a plan-" My sentence was cut short as I yawned yet again.

Romano sat beside me, draping his jacket over my shoulders. "First priority is to recover."

I rest my head on Romano's shoulder, grateful for his reassuring presence. I would have given up a long time ago if it wasn't for him.

It took no time at all, snuggled up to my big brother, to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

* * *

**A/N: I'm ****_so_**** sorry for the short chapter. I'm super busy with my deviantART ask account called ****ask-shy-canadia****, and haven't worked on this story at all. I'll finish it very soon, I promise... I hope this chapter wasn't too OOC, and I know, it's really sappy and everything, but I'll be working on more torture scenes, and we'll start to see the italians coming up with a plan soon~! Don't forget to review!**


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